Each summer of each year, I find myself longing for winter to come. In my defense, nothing seems better when you’re being eaten alive by bugs in August’s 100 plus degree weather. Then, each year, winter returns, reminding me of how stupid I was just a few months ago.
Winter, at least in New York, is basically a three-to-five month dead period in which it’s too cold to do anything fun outside. All the plants are dead, all the trees look dead, and all the adorable chipmunks are nowhere to be found. The outside world is almost completely devoid of life. I always forget about that during the Summer for some reason.
And for some reason, I always forget that snow is cold. It’s like, below freezing temperature! Although snow tastes good (so much better than tap water, for some reason), I dislike it due to the fact that getting hit in the face with a snowball is an incredibly painful experience, and I’ve been through a lot of painful experiences. The top 3 is:
- That time when I was asked if I wanted to join the “Pen 15” club in seventh grade. I didn’t get the joke until it was too late and suffered from a painful humiliation that still haunts me to this day.
- That time I poured cereal into the bowl before checking to make sure there was milk in the fridge. There wasn’t.
- Getting a concussion and two broken ribs in a car crash when I was eight.
Getting hit with a snowball would probably be listed somewhere between two and three. Snowballs are basically bombs made out of compacted ice thrown full-force at your face that explode on impact. I wouldn’t wish snowballs on my enemies! Except maybe Dolores Umbridge.
There’s nothing to do in the winter but watch TV and mindlessly roam the internet. That’s one of the reasons why I’m writing this to begin with. Snowball fights stop being fun once you get hit in the face (I believe I’ve made my point on this fact earlier), sledding gets repetitive after thirty minutes, and snowboarding/skiing cost hundreds of dollars along with a 99.9% mortality rate, which really just makes me wonder why anyone skis to begin with. [Note: the accuracy of certain statistics on this blog may be exaggerated just a little bit. In my defense, it’s more fun to make up stuff than to research them.]
Old Man Winter is sort of like that one friend which I assume everyone has that is only fun to hang out with for an hour or so. Then you get bored with him/her (let’s call him a he to save time), and try to give subtle hints that you want him to go. Yet he simply does not get the message, and ends up hanging out with you long past his welcome and you start to wonder why you even invited him over to begin with.
I believe I’ve complained about Winter for long enough. This was my second ever post on WordPress, and so far I’m happy with the way my blog’s turning out. Thanks to everyone who liked or subscribed to my first post!
Oh, and most adults hate winter. Most likely due to heating and electricity bills and having to drive to work in snow. I feel like I should have mentioned that.